With a Song
by Taylor Hayes
Summary: AU version of Torchwood from half-way through Season 2. Owen and Tosh survive, John Hart joins, as does Martha Jones, and Rhys helps out. The team finds out Ianto has a weekly gig at a local pub and show up. Personal discoveries are made. Complete.
1. The Little Things

**Chapter 1**

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**a/n Fair warning: This story is one that will be updated infrequently. The set-up is an AU version of Torchwood. At the end of Season 2, Owen and Tosh survive, John Hart joins Torchwood 3, as does Martha Jones, and Rhys starts working with them more and more. Anyway, the team finds out that Ianto has a weekly performance gig at a local pub. They don't tell Jack, but decide to make a night of it and go, without telling Ianto. So, here ya go.**

**~/~/~/~**

"The first song I've chosen for tonight, is… Well, it's a bit depressing, but it fits how I've been feeling recently. So…"

He strummed softly at the guitar he held, letting the sad sound pull in the audience. Then he opened his mouth.

"_Water grey, through the windows, up the stairs. Chilling rain like an ocean, everywhere."_

Owen recognized the song, but was blown away at how hurt it sounded as an acoustic rendition. And the Teaboy- he was hitting every chord without trouble. How long had he played? As for who had made him feel this way, that was a no brainer. Owen flashed back to the shadow Ianto had become after Jack left the first time.

_"Don't wanna reach for me, do you? I mean nothing to you. The little things give you away, and now there will be no mistaking. The levees are breaking."_

To say Rhys was shocked was an understatement. Here was the polite, perfectly buttoned gentleman who was always understanding and quiet. The Ianto he was used to was always around, but had mastered the art of fading into the background. This Ianto, on the other hand, seemed to glow with ignored potential.

_"All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you. And six feet underwater, I do."_

Tosh wanted to cry, listening to her friend pour out this pain. All she could hope was that Jack finally saw how he had been treating this amazing man. The tiny woman was not violent by nature, yet she had never been so tempted to shoot someone as she had lately with Jack and Gwen.

_"Hope decays, generations disappear. Washed away as a nation simply stares."_

Martha had not been with the team long, but she had known from the first moment that there was more to the contained Welshman than he let on. This was proof, and, as she thought back to time aboard the Doctor's vessel, wishing he could -for one moment!- see _her_, rather than the memory of Rose… Yes, she knew exactly what this song meant.

_"Don't wanna reach for me, do you? I mean nothing to you. The little things give you away, but now there will be mistaking. The levees are breaking."_

He hated this. John hated knowing that Eye-Candy felt exactly the way he always had about Jack. And now, thanks to this little ditty, he couldn't keep up the anger at the kid anymore. Instead, all he could do was feel his love for Jack twisting to feature disgust. Doing what he had done to John was one thing - John knew he was a psychotic asshole of the first degree. But this pretty boy was a _good person_. And who was the wanker using that against Eye-Candy? Jack, of course.

_"All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you. And six feet underwater, I do."_

Gwen didn't want to feel guilty. It didn't stop the bad feeling from sinking in its claws and tearing its way up her throat. She had Rhys, the most wonderful man she'd ever met. She loved him, and had been overjoyed to marry him. But Gwen kept stringing along Jack. It was only when Rhys had started helping out with cases that she noticed his reactions when she and Jack would fight or laugh together. And that lead to keeping an eye on Ianto. And what she saw there nearly broke her heart. Ianto was her _friend_. How could she let herself wound him so badly?

_"All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you. And six feet underground, now I, now I do."_

That was the line that sent shivers down the backs of every member of Torchwood.

Without a look up at the audience, Ianto kept plucking at the strings, fingers gentle.

None of that stopped the power of the music, as it hit the assemblage.

_"O-oh-oh-oh, oh._

_"O-oh-oh-oh, oh._

_"The little things give you away. The little things give you away. The little things give you away. The little things give you away._

_"All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you. All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you. All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you._

_"The little things give you away. The little things give you away. The little things give you away. The little things give you away. The little things give you away._

_"All you've ever wanted was someone to truly look up to you."_

The accompanying guitar strummed to a close, and, bright eyes closed, face a picture of mourning, Ianto let the last line travel softly through the room.

_"And six feet underwater, I do."_

As he finished the song, the team's eyes finally scanned the crowd and were no longer surprised at the reaction of the public who filled the bar.

**tbc…**


	2. Rabbit Heart & Heartbreak Warfare

**Chapter 2 - Rabbit Heart and Heartbreak Warfare**

**...**

_a/n So, here's the deal: This is going to be a bit discombobulated. Namely, I'm just going by what songs I want, and when that seems to work throughout the evening. Also, if anyone has a request for a song, go ahead and let me know._

...

It was Tosh who had seen the fliers up on the wall. "Ianto Jones and the Faithful Crows - Weekly Performance on Sundays Past 7 p.m. - Come Early, Seats Limited". To say the techie was surprised would be an understatement. In fact, she wouldn't have believed it was _their_ Ianto, except there was a picture on the paper, and it was clearly of Torchwood 3's Teaboy.

Taking one of the papers, she had folded it up, an idea forming slowly. When she had arrived at the hub, she carefully watched and waited until Ianto had headed down into the Archives for a few hours, and Jack was busy doing something in his office. Then she'd slowly moved from person to person, showing each of those remaining the flier and suggesting they go see the performance.

Owen had been all for confronting Ianto about it, right then and there. And John had been on the same page, enjoying every opportunity he was given to tease "Eye-Candy". (He especially had a fondness for this, since it riled Jack so much.)

But the women had argued and won that it could be like a covert mission - to see if they could sneak in and watch, without getting caught in turn. When Owen had scoffed at that, mentioning that it shouldn't be all that hard to sneak around under Ianto's nose, it was Martha who had jumped in and asked how blind the other doctor was that he couldn't see how, time and again, Ianto was shown to know far more than they expected. Trying to pull anything over on their suited companion would be a feat, in and of itself.

In the end, it was agreed that they wouldn't say anything to Yan (or Jack for that matter, since he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping the other man as soon as he heard, thus giving away the game).

...

Sunday night finally came around, and the universe smiled on them, the Rift having been quiet all day. Gwen made a quick run home to grab Rhys, while the others secretly kept their eyes on Ianto. When he finally slipped out the door, early, at 6:00 p.m., they all shared a knowing look, and then finished up, gathering on the Plas before heading over to the pub.

They'd assumed the silly "seats limited" bit was just a sales pitch. Then they had arrived, and realized the place was packed nearly to capacity. And from the way most of those they scooted and shoved past were talking, Ianto and his band were the draw.

It was only a few minutes after they'd crammed into a booth, close enough to see the stage but also far enough that they wouldn't be seen in turn, that whistles and cheers erupted all around them. Peering toward the front, they saw five men climb onto the stage, setting up instruments and adjusting microphone stands and amp levels. The one who pulled up a stool right at the front had a guitar in hand, strap strung over his shoulder. And their mouths all dropped.

This was _not_ the Ianto they were used to, all prim and proper, sharply creased suits, polite to a fault and blending seamlessly into the background. Now he wore a button-up t-shirt, opened low enough in the front to give a peak of chest hair and smooth skin. Around his throat was a pooka shell necklace, and he wore leather band on one wrist. His jeans were dark and fitted, and the cuffs fell over a pair of black sneakers. His hair was even a bit of a sexy mess, as though he had only just rolled out of bed.

It was reminiscent of how he had been dressed for the fateful trip to the Brecon Beacons countryside. The largest difference was simply that, at the time, seeing him like that was awkward and uncomfortable ("like a hooker in a nun's outfit" Owen had angrily muttered when they'd been setting up camp). Now, the clothes made sense, they seemed comfortable and familiar, and the team members were reminded of the truth - that Ianto was the youngest member of Torchwood 3, for all he subtly kept the Hub running.

"Hullo, everyone. I'm Ianto and these are the Faithful Crows. And in response to someone's question last week, _no_, I did_ not_ come up with the name. These idiots backing me up insisted on me being the headliner. Dunno why, but I couldn't argue, they have to put up with me critiquing their performances.

"Now, let's get started, shall we?"

...

Almost an hour after they had arrived, there was a short pause as the band took a quick break. When they got reseated, Yan smiled out at the audience.

"Alright, folks, it's time for something we do every week. You may have noticed that, with every drink you bought, you also got a slip of paper. For those who are new, you write down the title or a few prominent lyrics of a song that you don't think I, or the members of the band, might know. By now, Gary should have collected all of those and stuffed them into that giant beer tankard he bought in Germany a few years back, and I'll be pulling out five. If none of us up here know the song well enough to perform it, we'll pay for your next round of drinks.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

The owner of the pub came up to the stage and held out the enormous container stuffed full of papers. Ianto leaned forward and pulled out five, then opened the first and let out a laugh.

Speaking into the mike again, he winked at the audience. "Nice try-" He checked the paper again. "_Jacob_, whoever you may be. Unfortunately for you, Florence and the Machine are my niece's new favorite thing. I think I'm the only one who knows any of their songs though." He turned back to the band, and they all shook their heads that they didn't have a clue what or who he was talking about. A sigh, and the Welshman turned back to the front. "It seems you all get the treat of hearing an acoustic cover of Florence and the Machine's song _Rabbit Heart_, in a way you've never heard before and most likely never will again."

A deep breath in, and then those skilled fingers started across the strings again.

"_The looking glass, so shiny and new. How quickly the glamor fades. I start spinning, slipping out of time. Was that the wrong pill to take?_"

None of the team ever really listened to popular music - there just wasn't time. Because of this, there was not one of them familiar with the song.

They'd no idea what the original sounded like, but Ianto's cover was haunting.

"_You made a deal and now it seems you have to offer up. But will it ever be enough? Raise it up, raise it up! It's not enough. Raise it up, raise it up._"

It was the chorus that had them all unconsciously moving closer to one another, searching for comforting warmth to combat the chills down their spines.

"_Here I am, a rabbit-hearted child, frozen in the lights. It seems I've made the final sacrifice. We raise it up, this offering. We raise it up._

"_This is a gift that comes with a price. Who is the lamb, and who is the knife? Midas is king, and he holds me so tight and turns me to gold in the sunlight._"

Toshiko's mind was always twelve steps ahead and running. But, for once, she found herself stuck on a single image. It was a picture she had seen in a children's book, many years ago, of the mythical King Midas hugging his daughter and unknowingly causing her to change from a human into a priceless statue. Now, overlaid on that was a new picture: The moment after Abbadon, when Jack had finally woken, come out and grabbed Ianto, giving him a hard kiss.

"_I look around but I can't find you. Raise it up! If only I could see your face. Raise it up! I start rushing towards the skyline. Raise it up! I wish that I could just be brave._"

Oh, but he _was_ brave! The next memory to surface was Ianto, tied up, beaten, threatened, rushing headlong to ram into a cannibal and yelling for Tosh to run. She had barely caught a glimpse of the terror on the Welshman's face. Yet, despite that fear, he had done everything he could to help her escape - all the while knowing that that would make his captors ever angrier.

"_I must become a lion-hearted child, ready for a fight - before I make the final sacrifice. We raise it up, this offering. We raise it up._

"_This is a gift, it comes with a price. Who is the lamb, and who is the knife? Midas is king, and he holds me so tight and turns me to gold in the sunlight._

"_And in the spring I shed me skin, and it blows away with the changing wind. The waters turn from blue to red, as towards the sky I offer it._"

How many times had Ianto jumped in front of a team member or civilian to take a blow? How often did he go home injured, downplaying the pain, convincing them all that he was fine? How was it that, every day, he could be at the Hub before anyone, cleaning up and making coffee, being sweet and kind, sharp and witty, polite and humble, flirtatious and intriguing? He became whatever they needed.

Did any of them _really_ know Ianto Jones? Yes. The core of who he was didn't change. The overpowering, almost blind love he held for those he cared about was always there. It was what convinced him a half-converted Lisa could be saved, what drove him back to Torchwood to protect her even after Canary Whaf, and what allowed him to forgive Jack for treating him like background, then an "easy shag".

"_This is a gift, it comes with a price. Who is the lamb, and who is the knife? Midas is king, and he holds me so tight and turns me to gold in the sunlight._"

Love was how Ianto remembered Tosh preferred hot chocolate with cinnamon to coffee on her bad days. Love was why Ianto would snap back when Owen acted combative and needed a fight. Love was when Ianto would leave early one evening every other week to go pub-hopping with Rhys and argue about football. Love was how Ianto remembered Gwen's favorite flowers on her birthday. Love was the kindness Ianto always showed to Janet, and why Myfanwy would see Ianto coming to feed her and treat him like a favored hatchling. Love was when he smiled welcomingly at Martha and made sure her favorite biscuits were _always_ available. Love was even how he greeted John each morning with a sharp murmur of, "You're _still_ here?" and a wink.

"_This is a gift, it comes with a price. Who is the lamb, and who is the knife? Midas is king, and he holds me so tight and turns me to gold in the sunlight. This is a gift._"

Despite the applause and whoops at the song's end, the techie couldn't force her mind away from the returning images, now meshed together.

It was Jack, face bright, a crown on his head and kissing Ianto, who was changing, a golden color extending over his skin and clothes as he became a lovely, but lifeless, statue.

...

With the next slip of paper Ianto unfolded, he let out a sigh that was both fond and annoyed. "Natasha," he started, looking straight at a sexy, blonde, college-age woman in a dark red halter dress who sat right in front of the stage. "You _know_ we know this one. We played it two weeks ago."

The girl simply grinned brilliantly. "Well, I wanna hear it again. So, how 'bout you prove you still remember it," she challenged.

A huff, then a smile were sent her way. "You know, you're never to win a round if you keep putting down songs you've already heard us perform."

She pouted, then exclaimed, "Well, if you would up the stakes, like I suggested, I'd try for real!"

"We've been over this Natasha - Neither of our boyfriends would be pleased with you and I having a shag."

The team finally noticed the muscular brunet at Natasha's side when he slung an arm over her shoulders and growled, "Too right." then the angry glare changed abruptly into a teasing wink. "Although, I wouldn't say no to you and Nat if I could get in on the action as well, mate."

Ianto rolled his eyes, and mockingly whined, "Gareth, why can't we toss them out?"

The pub owner didn't even turn around when he yelled back, "Best customs, Yan! Come for you, stay for the booze."

With a laugh, the Welshman turned back to the mike. "Alright then. In that case, the next song's dedicated to Natasha and Roy, the nicest couple of stalkers I've ever dealt with."

The first few chords seemed to echo through the air, and the song was strangely hopeful, though the words seemed more of a surrender.

"_Lightning strikes inside my chest to keep me up at night. Dream of ways to make you understand my pain._"

Owen hated himself in that moment. If anyone should understand Ianto - understand having the person you planned to spend the rest of your life with die, while you tried desperately and uselessly to save them, or having your lover abandon you because there was something or someone else they wanted more - it should be Owen.

Only, instead of trying to help Ianto, who really seemed very young right now, but whose eyes and voice were far too old, he had beaten down on him. The Teaboy was an easy person to throw harsh words at, and when he fought back, it was more about the fight itself, rather than cutting down his opponent. Owen _knew_ that, should Yan ever turn the argument against Owen, in truth, the doctor would end up a furious, bawling mess without a thing to say in his own defense.

And that had never happened. For all the times Owen said something that cause Ianto to flinch, never once had the boy fired back in equal measure.

"_Clouds of sulfur in the air, bombs are falling everywhere. It's heartbreak warfare. Once you want it to being, no one really ever wins in heartbreak warfare._"

That was reality - there was no winner when you fought with shards of your own pain. They'd both been losing in love for so long, and instead of teaming up and bolstering one another, Owen had continually struck out at the man who could be his greatest ally.

"_If you want more love, why don't you say so? If you want more love, why don't you say so?_"

Because he was embarrassed and ashamed. He didn't need love, only quick shags here and there. Just a chance to get off.

But even more, Owen couldn't let himself fall in love again. That way lay only pain. It hurt too much to be worth it. Or, at least, that's what he had convinced himself - that when you made yourself that vulnerable, it was all too easy to be wounded.

"_Drop his name. Push it in and twist the knife again. Watch my face as I pretend to feel no pain._

"_Clouds of sulfur in the air, bombs are falling everywhere. It's heartbreak warfare. Once you want it to begin, no one really ever wins in heartbreak warfare._

"_If you want more love, why don't you say so? If you want more love, why don't you say so? Just say so._"

The guitar solo that followed should have just been noise. Instead, it was pain and aches and broken hopes and wishful dreams all vibrating in the notes.

"_How come the only way to know how high you get me is to see how far I fall?_"

When it came to the Teaboy, Owen pushed and pushed and _pushed_, trying to bring him down, trying to cause him doubt and fear, trying to make him feel as unloved and worthless as Owen. Was that really the only way he knew how to cope? By working to make those around him as miserable as he was?

"_God only knows how much I'd love you if you let me, but I can't break through it all. It's a heartbreak._

"_I don't care if we don't sleep at all tonight, let's just fix this whole thing now. I swear to God we're gonna get it right if you lay your weapon down. Red wine and ambient, you're talking shit again. It's heartbreak warfare. Good to know it's all a game. Disappointment has a name - it's heartbreak warfare._"

This song had _not_ been for Owen, or aimed at him in any way. That didn't mean he wouldn't take the message to heart. It would be hard, he knew that, to catch himself. To watch his tongue, and keep the snark from being hurtful. But Owen would try. Because, after all, if he was the best person to understand Ianto, that meant the same was true the other way round. And to have someone to talk to, someone who understood… To have a _friend_ again…

Natasha and Roy, along with the rest of the pub, were hooting and laughing and clapping.

Owen sat quietly, wrapped in his thoughts, and made the decision.

A _friend_.

It would be worth it.

.

…

.

_a/n2 This one was a bit longer 'cause fanfiction(dot)net was acting up, so we'll see if document upload manager is working yet. We'll see._


	3. For Your Entertainment

**Chapter 3 - For Your Entertainment**

_a/n Another longer chapter that got written absurdly quick. Thanks to Chrystal106 for suggesting this song!_

"This next song's not something we'd normally even consider the idea of performing," Ianto chuckled. "But someone went out of their way to request it last Sunday. And who am I to deny my fans the chance to see me make a fool of myself?"

The audience laughed, the Teaboy put down his guitar and took the microphone in hand, and the song began.

John could admit he'd fallen in lust with Ianto Jones from the first time he saw him. Dark hair and light eyes, warm skin on a fit frame. And that arse, hiding away under the prim trousers and suit jacket… Not to mention the measure of control the boy had over himself.

Made John want to tear it all down and watch as the pretty playtoy fell apart under his hands.

And this bloody song was doing _nothing_ to stop that urge, as the beat worked its way into John's blood, and his pants got a bit tighter while Eye-Candy sauntered around the stage.

"_So hot, out the box, can we pick up the pace? Turn it up, heat it up, I need to be entertained. Push the limit, are you with it? Baby, don't be afraid. I'mma hurt you real good, baby._"

His damned voice sounded like buggering sex on a stick, for God's sake!

"_Let's go. It's my show, baby, do what I say. Don't trip off the glitz that I'm gonna display. I told you, I'mma hold you down until you're amazed - give it to you 'til you're screaming my name._"

When John Hart had first laid eyes on Torchwood 3, it really hadn't been any sort of surprise to see two members were panting after dear old Jack - one of each gender, for that matter. Hell, if his ex-partner could work a trans- or omni-sexual alien into the mix, just to chase after Jack, the bastard would. It was merely the way the man worked.

"_No escaping when I start. Once I'm in, I own your heart. There's no way to ring the alarm, so hold on until it's over!_

"_Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm about to do? 'Cause it's about to get rough for you. I'm here for your entertainment!_

"_Oh, I bet you thought I was soft and sweet. You thought an angel swept you off your feet? But I'm about to turn up the heat. I'm here for your entertainment!_"

Bollocks, if only he were!

Out of all the team, Gwen was actually the bird who'd first caught John's attention. (And now he could't help but wonder how the hell he could be so blind, when Eye-Candy could swivel his hips like _that_. Or make his voice just _growl_.)

Gwen had _seemed_ all sorts of cautious, and put up the front that she'd be a good fight. Hadn't taken John long to realize the truth, though. The more time he spent with her, the more obvious it became that her instincts were shite - she was only being careful around John because Jacky-boy had told her to act that way. In the end, planting the kiss on her and running off, prize in hand, had been almost depressingly easy.

Would've been a real challenge if he'd had to catch Eye-Candy off guard. He'd watched John like a hawk from the start, obviously recognizing a threat when he saw one.

"_It's all right, you'll be fine, baby. I'm in control. Take the pain, take the pleasure - I'm the master of both. Close your eyes, not your mind. Let me into your soul. I'm gonna work it 'til you're totally blown!_"

Jack could dance and move and make eyes at an audience easy enough. But the bastard sure as hell couldn't sing. And Eye-Candy… Damn, the Welshman was fine.

He could see why Jack had been acting the way he was towards the boy, that first meeting. And it was pretty bloody clear that John had appeared right smack dab in the center of some sort of fight between the archivist and the captain. He'd even been distracted enough by it to suppose Eye-Candy was only watching John so carefully out of jealousy and righteous anger.

Then, as the night wore on, John started to see that the boy was a thousand times more cautious and aware than Torchwood's other Welshie.

"_No escaping when I start. Once I'm in, I own your heart. There's no way to ring the alarm, so hold on until it's over!_

"_Oh, do you know what you got into? Can you handle what I'm about to do? 'Cause it's about to get rough for you. I'm here for your entertainment!_"

There was a ancient song line that fit Eye-Candy perfectly, at the moment, in those close-cut jeans. 'God-given ass', was the phrase.

"_Oh, I bet you thought I was soft and sweet. You thought an angel swept you off your feet. Well, I'm about to turn up the heat. I'm here for your entertainment!_"

John wasn't really sure _what_ he'd thought of Eye-Candy when he surprised him in the elevator. Most decisively not that the boy would abandon his lover to go save the others. But the Welshman took the digs and the nickname and the threats in furious silence, and only seemed to consider for a moment before running off to help the rest of his team. At the time, John had let himself believe Eye-Candy was actually mad enough that he left Jack to his fate.

It wasn't 'til later, after John had seen for himself that dear Jack couldn't die (_Or could_, he supposed. _Just wouldn't stay that way._) that the truth hit him: Eye-Candy knew Jack couldn't be permanently hurt. So he'd chosen duty over libido.

John had literally _never_ chosen his responsibilities over what he wanted. It took him three months working with Torchwood to figure out the boy's choice hadn't been a one-off. In fact, Eye-Candy did it often enough that John was starting to wonder if he got off on it. Because, if not, that made Ianto Jones either the most or the least well-adjusted person John had ever known.

"_Oh, woah! Do you like what you see?_"

John didn't have it in him to deny the boy had been a small part of the appeal to coming back.

The biggest part was finding Grey and realizing the kid was completely psychotic, utterly set on finding and destroying Jack, along with everything his older brother cared about.

Bugger was mental.

So, really, who could blame John for wanting to get himself the hell away from Grey's time and location? Coming 'round to bother Torchwood was just icing on the cake. And with the information he had, Jack couldn't afford to turn the Time Agent away.

It had taken a fair bit of convincing for Jacky to understand that his sweet, lost little brother was now a terrifying, murderous mad man, but he'd finally agreed to set up an early warning system - just in case.

Which meant John was safe from the crazy bastard, and that he'd have enough time to kit himself out with some bloody big guns if Grey ever _did_ show his blasted face around Cardiff.

"_Oh, woah! Let me entertain you 'til you scream!_"

It had been a bit of a surprise when Eye-Candy hadn't out-right protested John's continued presence in the Hub. Over all, the team reacted just as John had guessed - anger, suspicion, grumbling and whispers. (With the absurd exception of Gwennie, daft bint, who'd followed him around, threatening to lock him in a holding cell or shoot him for a week. Then, when the next Monday came, she'd started treating him like an old friend, flirting and teasing and generally acting like he'd never poisoned her, or been determined to take the chit with him when he'd been wired to blow.)

None of them (except Gwen, who really didn't count, sometimes) trusted John. But the only one to actually do something about it was Eye-Candy, who had let John know right off that his movements would be recorded and analyzed. When Eye-Candy threatened to lock John up or shoot him, the ex-Time Agent had taken it _damned_ seriously.

"_Oh, do you know what you got into?_"

As if the Welshman hadn't surprised John enough, next thing he knew, Eye-Candy had set him up with an expense account (limited, of couse, but enough to get by) and a flat in town.

The boy claimed it would only make it easier to keep track of a potential problem. Didn't stop him from giving John a steady paycheck, like every other member of Torchwood. John was more than a little shocked to discover he actually _enjoyed_ having a normal paycheck coming for helping the team keep a lid on the Rift. Was off, to say the least.

"_Can you handle what I'm 'bout to do? 'Cause it's about to get rought for you. I'm here for your entertainment!_"

As for Eye-Candy, John had slowly begun to respect him - and that respect increased with each new discovery.

Now, watching him strut across the stage, twisting and grinning, light-hearted and sexy, John couldn't deny that the respect was now joined by something else. John Hart may have also fallen in love with the gorgeous boy.

"_Oh, I bet you thought I was soft and sweet. You thought an angel swept you off your feet. But I'm about to turn up the heat. I'm here for your entertainment!_"

Just a bit.


	4. Impossible & Walking on Broken Glass

**Chapter 4 - Impossible and Walking on Broken Glass**

Ianto was comfortable up on the stage, putting on a show, messing about with his bandmates and the audience. It was funny that, out of all the team, it was the "reserve" member that wasn't that surprised.

The fact was, Rhys knew the office version of Yan, but he was also privy to the best mate version. Each time, it took him a couple minutes to wrap his head around the change, sure. And it was always a shock to go from "Agent Jones, Torchwood 3" to "Yan" - but it was well worth watching.

The fifth song of the evening was actually one of Rhys' favorites. He couldn't help his knowing smile, considering they had drunkenly discussed the lyrics just a few days ago, while watching a game on the telly.

"_You make my teeth clinch and my hands shake. Do you ever see what you do to me? You're wearing me out, just wearing me out - But I'm wearing you down._"

The two Welshmen had been a bit more than pissed, and both agreed the song fit their relationships 'pretty damn near perfect'.

"_You're impossible, but lovely. So impossible to win or please. I'm wearing you out, just wearing you out - But I'm wearing you down._"

Rhys knew Yan thought he deserved better than Gwen. And Yan knew that Rhys felt much the same about Jack. Both of them could tell their mate wasn't impressed with their significant other. But they were in love. No matter what fantastic, alien crap Gwen put him through, Rhys would always be with her.

And for all the relationship shit that bastard Captain put Yan through, the boy wasn't giving up until Jack told him it was over.

"_Take what you want from me, it means nothing now. Take everything from me, it means nothing now. Not so easy to forgive, harder to forget. Take what you want._"

Both men recognized that there was no one quite as good as their partners at making them doubt their own worth. And it still surprised Rhys when Yan would show up with a six-pack, instead of calling Tosh, when Jack was acting barkers.

Jack and Yan's relationship had always confused Rhys. Because, really, Rhys never would have guessed Yan was gay.

Rhys had no problem with blokes liking other blokes, and Yan could be a bit girly at times, with his perfect suits in all sorts of crazy color combinations. But Yan didn't _act_ gay. He was just another mate.

"_I make your lips slip, and your moans quake. They to think through what I can do to you. It's wearing me thin. Can I begin to wear you out?_"

Of course, Yan had told Rhys often enough that he liked men _and_ women - it was only that he was currently with a bloke. Rhys simply couldn't see what Yan (or Gwen, for that matter) saw in "Captain Jack" that was so damn fascinating.

"_Take what you want from me, it means nothing now. Take everything from me, it means nothing now. Not so easy to forgive, harder to forget. Take what you want._"

Sitting back, a smile lighting his lips, Rhys watched the last left-over of "Agent Jones, Torchwood 3" slip away while Yan set to the guitar solo with a will. Fingers flew and that wall the Torchwood Teaboy put up at work had melted, leaving behind Rhys' mate Yan. (Who was a few years younger than the rest of them and really deserved the chance to act it.)

The Welshman glanced around, and that warm feeling of pride grew as he took in the faces of the crowd. Everyone was grinning and bouncing and cheering. Even Torchwood wasn't immune, all swaying and dancing in their seats.

"_I'm impossible to figure out. So impossible, you had your doubts._

"_Take what you want from me, it means nothing now. Take everything you wanted, it means nothing now. Not so easy to forgive, harder to forget. Take what you want from me, it means nothing now. Take everything you wanted, it means nothing now. Not so easy to forgive, harder to forget. Take what you want from me._

"_Take what you want from me._"

Rhys let loose a wolf whistle to add to the applause, and he watched - pleased as punch - when Yan stood and bowed.

The smile of achievement and joy, the charisma and life pouring off his friend were overwhelming.

_Yan should be like this all the time. Bloody Jack._

But Rhys refused to let thoughts of a certain captain ruin this moment.

He ignored it in favor of another loud whistle that split the air and added to the general, appreciative din.

…..

…

...

When they had first shoved their way into the pub, Gwen felt absurdly excited. One of her colleagues - _Ianto_, of all people! - had a secret, double-life as an underground rock star! (And, yes, she was well aware that she was exaggerating the truth. It was exhilarating, was all.)

Then they'd found out Ianto really was sort of famous. How none of them knew about this before, with the way some of the patrons were raving about "Ianto and the Faithful Crows", left Gwen wondering just how much of the regular world the lot of them missed with all the time spent focusing on the extraterrestrial.

Hearing Ianto sing was a revelation. The emotion he could convey was so _powerful_.

And it especially pained Gwen to realize she was a factor in the sadness and hurt Ianto was revealing.

Gwen _loved_ Rhys. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But Jack was exciting and intriguing and so _different_ than anyone she knew. And the attention she paid Jack cost Rhys. And Ianto.

"Right! The next song's for Gareth, who's been kind enough to let us perform here week after week. Of course-" here Ianto joked, "-it helps that we keep the customers too distracted to realize how bad the drink quality is."

"Oi!" the proprietor yelled from his place behind the bar. "You keep saying that, but you're always coming 'round for a pint, you cheeky bastard!"

Ianto held up his hands in surrender, laughing easily. "All the same, this song's dedicated to our good friend Gareth, and his secret Annie Lennox obsession!"

"_Yan!_"

The man's gruff, embarrassed exclamation was quickly drowned out by music.

"_You were the sweetest thing that I ever knew, but I don't care for sugar, honey, if I can't have you. Since you've abandoned me my whole life has crashed. Won't you pick the pieces up? 'Cause it feels just like I'm walking on broken glass._

"_Walking on, walking on broken glass. Oh, walking on, walking on broken glass._"

Gwen hated this song already. The music was up-beat, hopeful, excited. But the words…

"_The sun's still shining in the big, blue sky, but it don't mean nothing to me. Oh, let the rain come down, let the wind blow through me. I'm living in an empty room with all the windows smashed. And I've got so little left to lose that it feels just like I'm walking on broken glass._"

The memories of the months without Jack hit all at once. Gwen remembered how it was nearly two months before she and Tosh convinced Ianto to stop sleeping in the Hub. And Owen had been a wreck trying to keep Ianto healthy and well. Ianto ate very little at the best of times, and preferred eating with others rather than alone. When Jack left, Ianto was never hungry and they hadn't realized how bad it was until he passed out one night after a Weevil capture.

"_Walking on, walking on broken glass. Walking on, walking on broken glass_."

Ianto faked it so well that - if they all hadn't known better because _they'd_ been feeling abandoned - none of the team would have seen how hurt he'd been. He seemed fine, but beneath the calm surface, their Teaboy was falling apart.

"_And if you're trying to cut me down, you know that I might bleed. 'Cause if you're trying to cut me down I know that you'll succeed. And if you want to hurt me there's nothing left to fear. 'Cause if you want to hurt me, you're doing really well my dear._"

Gwen hadn't been there when Yan finally broke down, nor Tosh. It was Owen who listened, and later complained endlessly about Ianto's "issues". It was almost funny that what _should_ have broken the team apart - the desertion of their fearless leader - actually brought them closer. And then the Captain's return had destroyed the trust they'd been building together.

"_Now, every one of us was made to suffer. Every one of us is made to weep. But we've been hurting one another and now the pain has cut too deep._"

Gwen hadn't meant to get so caught up in Jack's return, but she had. She'd neglected her fiancé and her friends, and had even gone back to the old routine of flirting and fighting with Jack. She _knew_, she _knew_ how Yan felt. _Knew_ that Jack had been a kind of saving grace for Ianto after everything with Lisa. And she still naturally fell into the habit of expecting Jack to pay the most attention to her.

"_So take me from the wreckage, save me from the blast. Lift me up and take me back. Don't let me keep on walking- Don't let me keep on walking- I can't keep on walking- I can't keep on walking on broken glass!_"

Gods, she'd been a right bitch.

And Ianto, caring and lonely, who never complained about how he'd had to ass field work to his already extensive duties, who made the best coffee on the planet, and who was in love with Jack but too terrified to say, never chewed her out.

"_Walking on, walking on broken glass. Woo-hoo! Walking on, walking on broken glass. Walking on glass, walking on glass._"

Gwen deserved for him to yell and throw things. And she recognized that he never would.

"_I keep walking on glass, walking on glass. I'm walking on glass, walking on glass. Walking on glass, walking on glass. You keep me walking on glass, walking on glass!_"

Ianto wouldn't call her on her behavior. Jack was too oblivious to even see there was something wrong with it. Martha and John were too new, and the understanding Gwen had had with Owen and Tosh was shattered with their leader's return. And darling Rhys would let her get away with just about anything. If Gwen wanted someone to stop her being a self-centered bitch, she was going to have to do it.

"_Baby, how can I keep- How can I keep walking on glass, walking on glass?_"

It was Gwen's job to watch herself, and to protect her friend. And this time, she was not going to mess up.


	5. Talking to the Moon

**Chapter 5 - Talking to the Moon**

The fourth slip of paper resulted in a table near the front getting a free round.

"It's not that we _can't _perform it," Ianto explained. "Rather it's our _dignity_ that won't allow us to cover a song by the Spice Girls." He glared good-naturedly at the group, who saluted him, fully enjoying their drinks on the band's tab. "And, as a new rule-" the Welshman continued. "-from now on, no Spice Girls' songs. _Warn your friends_," he announced the last ominously, then snorted and laughed.

"What's next?" the drummer, an older, scruffy man, called.

Ianto held up the final paper. "Last chance of the night to win booze you don't have to pay for!" Unfolding the slip, a sweet, sad smiled played across Ianto's lips. "This is a favorite of mine, actually. I've never gotten the chance to sing it in front of anyone, though."

"Well, what is it?" the drummer yelled again.

When the frontman passed back the paper, empathetic expressions appeared, softening the faces of the bandmates.

"I suppose I'm doing this one alone, then?" he asked, and the other men merely nodded.

Blowing out a little breath, Ianto faced forward again and apologized. "Normally, this is a song meant to have piano accompaniment. But none of us ever took the time to learn. And I've not worked out a good guitar version, which means this song will be performed _a cappella_. And I'll do my utmost not to slaughter it. Thanks."

The entire building seemed to go silent. No one moved, the normal rustling and chatter paused, even the bartender, held off momentarily on filling up more glasses.

"_I know you're somewhere out there, somewhere far away. I want you back. I want you back._

"_My neighbors think I'm crazy but they don't understand. You're all I have. You're all I have._

"_At night when the stars light on my room, I sit by myself-_

"_Talking to the moon. Trying to get to you. In hopes you're on the other side talking to me, too. Oh, am I a fool who sits alone talking to the moon?_"

The feel and the sound of this song was as familiar to Martha as her own heartbeat. She may have Tom now, but that didn't change these old emotions.

It had been her choice to leave the TARDIS, and walk away from the Doctor. And for a long time, she had regretted it every other breath, knowing he was out there, traveling, causing trouble, saving the universe.

Now, she'd accepted it. Martha was happy where she was. Her family was happy and well, healed from the painful memories of time onboard the _Valiant_. She had a good job, which she loved, and her co-workers were also her friends. If she really need to, she could always use her cell to give the Doctor a ring. And she had Tom, who was brilliant and sexy and witty and sweet (even if he was currently off saving children in Africa).

When Martha didn't get was how Ianto could be portraying her exact feelings from right after she and the Doctor parted ways. Not to mention that line, 'talking to the moon'…

And then she remembered - The Year That Never Was, Jack had been with them. Which meant he left the team behind. She knew they couldn't possibly remember The Year, and less official time had passed when they set everything right. Still, time _had_ passed, with Jack away from Torchwood. And they hadn't had any contact from the captain.

Not to mention, if Martha recalled the way Jack had talked about Ianto correctly, they must have already been together.

Meaning Jack had up and left his lover, without a word of explanation to fly off to distant planets and times, with an alien Yan had to know the captain was thoroughly intrigued by.

Add that to what she had observed in her time with the team, and Ianto's basic lack of self-worth that still occasionally reared its ugly head, and this song and the way he was singing it made all the sense in the world.

"_I'm feeling like I'm famous - the talk of the town. They say I've gone made. Yeah, I've gone mad._

"_But they don't know what I know. 'Cause when the sun goes down, someone's talking back. Yeah, they're talking back._

"_At night when the stars lgith on my room, I sit by myself-_

"_Talking to the moon. Trying to get to you. In hopes you're on the other side talking to me, too. Oh, am I a fool who sits alone talking to the moon?_"

This was making Martha want to cry - for Ianto, for herself, for the Doctor, for Jack, for Rose.… for anyone and everyone who'd ever been hurt by falling in love.

And the whole time travel bit really did just make everything worse.

"_Oh, ooh, ooh, ooh. Oh, ooh, ooh, ooh._

"_Do you ever hear me calling?_

"_Oh, ooh, ooh, ooh. Oh, ooh, ooh, ooh._

"_'Cause every night I'm talking to the moon. Still trying to get to you - in hopes you're on the other side talking to me, too. Oh, am I a fool who sits alone talking to the moon?_

"_I know you're somewhere out there, somewhere far away._"

As the last note tapered off, Martha took a deep breath, then sighed.

_Talking to the moon, huh?_ She would never be able to think of that phrase the same way again. And she really didn't think she would mind.


	6. Because of You

**Chapter 6 - Because of You**

Captain Jack Harkness was not as oblivious as his team sometimes thought. He'd noticed the way they were gathering, voices hushed, to discuss something they apparently didn't want Ianto knowing about.

Unfortunately, whatever their topic of conversation, they were keeping it from Jack as well. Which meant he got to practice some old skills he hadn't needed much since taking over as head of Torchwood - namely, being sneaky and unnoticed. (He preferred, whenever possible, to be confrontational, flirty and loud.)

In the end, it had all culminated in following them to a pub. Jack had slipped in, and decided to only wait a few minutes. If nothing blew up by then, or no one got onstage and started stripping, it was probably just the old team taking their new members out to explain the complexity that was Jack and Ianto's relationship. Then the act had been announced, and jack's breath had shot out of his lungs in a disbelieving, "_What?_"

_Ianto was in a band?_

Ianto, _his Ianto_, was in a band, and he _never said anything?_

As Jack's brain tried to catch up with this new (and highly arousing) information, Ianto introduced himself and the others, then began playing.

The fact that Ianto could play guitar was doing all sorts of things to Jack's libido.

In fact, it had such an effect that the captain didn't actually catch up until about the fifth or sixth song.

And then all the sexual tension died.

"_Hands on the mirror, can't get much clearer, can't make this all go away. Now that you're bleeding you stare at the ceiling, and watch as it all fades away._"

Jack wanted to deny it, wanted to focus entirely on that rough tone in Ianto's voice and the way his lover seemed so passionate about the song.

"_From what you do! Because of you!_"

But there was no way to ignore it. He couldn't even lie to himself.

"_You know I can't be there each time that you call. I swore not to come, but I'm here after all. I know by the look that I see in your eye. I won't stand around and I won't watch you die. From what you do!_

"_What you do, what you do, what's become of you? What you do, what you do, what's become of-?_"

Ianto didn't know that Jack was in the audience. The Torchwood leader was sure of that.

"_Now that you did this, you ask for forgiveness. Doctor, could you be my priest? You say you're mistaken but look what you've taken. You laugh as you lie through your teeth._

"_From what you do! Because of you!_

"_You know I can't be there each time that you call. I swore not to come, but I'm here after all. I know by the look that I see in your eye. I won't stand around and I won't watch you die._

"_From what you do!_

"_What you do, what you do, what's become of you? What you do, what you do, what's become of-?_

"_From what you do!_"

This was about Jack. This was what he'd done to Ianto, with each strike to the Welshman's heart.

This was killing cyber-Lisa, shagging Ianto, flirting with Gwen, leaving the team, coming back, expecting everything to be the same as before. This was each instance Ianto had almost said how he felt about Jack but bitten it off, knowing Jack "didn't do" monogamy - even if only Jack knew that, currently, that was a lie.

This was every single time this amazing man had had to watch the bastard he'd given his heart to (though they both knew Ianto hadn't meant for that to happen) die, over and over again.

"_Hands on the mirror, can't get much clearer, can't make this all go away. Now that you're bleeding, you stare at the ceiling and watch as it all fades away._

"_From what you do! Because of you!_

"_You know I can't be there each time that you call. I swore not to come but I'm here after all. I know by the look that I see in your eye. I won't stand around and I won't watch you die. From what you do!_

"_What you do, what you do, what's become of you? What you do, what you do, what's become of-? Become of-?_"

Jack considered himself an exceptional lover. He was famous (or infamous, depending on the area and date) throughout time and space for his skills in the bedroom. But this thing with Ianto… They had both fought, tooth and nail, to keep it from becoming more than a mutually pleasurable way to let off steam.

And they had both failed.

The feelings Jack harbored for Ianto Jones were confusing and unwelcome, and tender in a way he couldn't remember ever caring about anyone in his unnaturally long life.

He didn't want it to be this.

That didn't change the fact that it was. And for only the second time in his endlessly extended existence, Jack found himself wanting to prove worthy of the love he had been given.

...

…

...

_a/n This massive tri-update brought to you by my work computer refusing to work (giving me extra time and having to use paper and pen again, which always gets my creative juices flowing) and Doctor Who Season 3 (which I am currently watching while typing everything up). Anyway, there's just one last chapter to go, and we'll see how soon I can get it up, shall we? ~t.h._


	7. Closing Time & Wish You Were Here

**Chapter 7 - Closing Time and Wish You Were Here**

While he was taking a quick drink from his water bottle, Ianto checked the time on his watch. With equal measures of disappointment and achievement, he announced the last song.

The tradition had started the third week, when Gareth finally insisted they use one particular song to signal the end of the night and send the patrons off. It was Marv who'd jokingly strummed a few chords on his guitar - only to have the others take his suggestion seriously.

So now it was habit to announce the final song and invite everyone to sing along with them.

"_Closing time. Open all the doors and let you out into the world. Closing time. Turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl._"

Ianto always found amusement in the expressions of the newbies, who had a tendency to stare in drunken shock as the rest of the pub-crawlers erupted into a loud, surprisingly on-key version of the song. (After all, it _was_ Wales.)

"_Closing time. One last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer. Closing time. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here._"

Spinning to throw a quick wink at the rest of the band, Ianto really let loose - allowed himself to act the way he had when he was a reprobate teenager, which really wasn't all that long past. It felt like life times some days.

Now, though, now he let himself be sixteen again, wild and raucous, with too much energy and nothing to use it up but the music.

"_I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home!_"

He watched that feeling spread through the audience - distantly observed them forget their problems and revel in the moment.

"_Closing time. Time for you to go out to the places you will be from. Closing time. This room won't be open 'til your brothers and your sisters come._

"_So gather up your jackets, move it to the exits. I hope you have found a friend. Closing time. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end._"

The whole pub was singing and shouting out the words, smiles on every face.

"_I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home!_"

Every time the chorus was sung, Ianto pictured the same cocky grin and handsome face, far-too-knowing eyes and strong arms, wrapped up in flash, pomposity and a woolen blue greatcoat.

"_Closing time. Time for you to go out to the places you will be from._"

All he really wanted to end the night was the chance to show up at the Hub and kiss Jack.

It was silly and juvenile. And he was a lovestruck, hopeless romantic who was tired of pretending.

"_I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home!_"

Then everyone cut out at once, still grinning, to let Ianto finish off.

"_Closing time. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end._"

The last note faded, Ianto nodded at the crowd and quietly sighed, fulfilled and tired. "Good night, everyone."

…..

…

…..

The next day was odd, to say the least.

It should have been a normal Monday, but instead everyone was acting off.

First Jack had dropped by to pick Ianto up for work, rather than letting him walk as normal. He hadn't even tried to get in more than a casual grope, after a quick and unusually chaste peck on the lips.

When they'd arrived at the Hub, there was only a mess left behind where the coffee machine used to be. Apparently, both Owen and John had gotten it into their heads to make the morning drinks, and the resulting argument, not to mention their complete lack of knowledge regarding the process of making the coffee, had ended in a small explosion which had taken the source of their daily caffeine with it.

Then Gwen had ordered everyone lunch, and done it under the name "Torchwood" (something that Ianto had been avoiding, and taught Owen and Jack to as well, in the past little while), followed by using the wrong charge account. Rhys showed up and just hung around for a tick, but spent all that time following Ianto about, rather than Gwen.

Tosh and Martha went out of their way to be extra nice to him, even attempting to do their own paperwork, and feed Myfanwy and Janet. That had gone badly, although luckily no one was harmed.

In fact, they all kept trying to clean up after themselves, in addition to everything else, causing Ianto's workload to more than double.

Near the end of the day, when Jack called him into his office just to hold his hand for an hour and ask about his life, the Welshman was beginning to wonder if there was something the others knew that he didn't.

Was he dying?

Finally, he'd had enough of everyone treating him like spun glass, trying to keep him from getting his hands dirty, doing their best to distract him from his duties.

Exasperated and exhausted, he pulled up the CCTV records for the last week and sat down to work his way through them. After three hours of useless staring, it was last Wednesday, he discovered, that they had started in at the huddling about and watching him when his back was turned.

Was this something alien, and he had simply missed being infected?

Then he saw the paper in Tosh's hand.

His mouth dropped open in disbelief, and he zoomed in.

Yes, that was most definitely one of the flyers Ewan had insisted they make and put up all over town. Which meant this whole thing was about them coming by Gareth's yesterday and-

Oh god.

Watching him perform.

If the universe was just (which it had proven time and again it was bloody well _not_) they wouldn't have been there. He hoped especially hard when he remembered the set list for Sunday. He'd been feeling a bit nostalgic and depressed when he'd put together that particular mix of songs.

No wonder they were treating him like he needed a break - they probably thought he was about to go on some kind of manic rampage.

God, this was not good.

Then he considered. Knowing the team, if they'd shown up once, they'd do it again. Which meant there was the distinct possibility of turning this whole fiasco back on them.

With a cheerfully evil little chuckle, he started planning.

…..

…

…..

Ianto found the whole thing a bit of a laugh.

When the next Sunday came 'round, he knew they'd try to sneak in, all of them. But it didn't help that he'd been so good as to give Tye at the door a picture of the whole lot.

In the end, they'd all been led straight to the table he'd convinced Gareth to set up. And he might have avoided looking at that spot throughout the whole set. It was just too much of himself on display.

And it would hurt, more than he could say, if he were to check and find them bored or uninterested, or even disgusted at the way he was acting.

So he'd spent the time throwing himself into performing and doing his very best not to let nerves overcome him.

But now the end was here, and he slowly moved closer to the microphone and began to speak.

"I'm afraid tonight we're going to forego _Closing Time_. I've got something a bit different planned."

Finally, finally he let himself look. And he couldn't stop the relief and joy, and the basic feeling of _family_ flooding over him.

They were all watching, and looked happy - legitimately happy - to be there.

"Sorry if this comes out a bit, well, emotional. Still, it needs to be said," Ianto shrugged. "This last song is dedicated to a certain group of people. The people who, for the past week, have made my life hell.

"But then they're also the ones who make my life worth living. And sometimes we hate each other, and cause one another all kinds of pain. That doesn't change the fact that we also laugh together and help through the worst times."

Slowly, his eyes scanned them, one after another.

"So, this one goes out to a lovely tech who's sometimes too smart for her own good. And a psychotic ex-con that can always make us smile, no matter how dire the circumstances. The two doctors, one an arsehole, the other an angel, who've driven themselves nearly mad patching us up. An ex-police constable with more heart and bravery than anyone I've met. The regular bloke who keeps us all from spinning off into space. And particularly for our unyielding leader, who couldn't stop himself saving us or the world if his life depended on it. Can't seem to get him out of my mind lately. Of course, it doesn't hurt that he's as attractive as anything."

They all seemed surprised, pleased, and all of them (even John, Jack and Owen) wore expressions of fondness.

"To you lot, I just want you to know, there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here with you."

The last he aimed straight at Jack, then cleared his throat, and focused on his guitar.

The old chords were familiar, like a friend you've not seen in years and in a moment it feels just like it was at the beginning. He'd always loved this song, from the very first time he heard it. The lyrics were sad and lost, yet somehow the whole tone was one of comfort and hope.

One after another, the rest of the band joined in, slowly weaving the different pieces together into a single full song. And Ianto did his very best to let the memories of the past few years flow through the music, remembering the good and the bad, the triumphs and the fantastic and the amazing, without denying the failures and the broken and the heartache.

It was just life. And life was pain, and pleasure, and hope. And Ianto wouldn't trade it for anything.

"_So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain? Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?_

"_Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in the cage?_

"_How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here._"

…..

…

…..

Of course, not even their congratulations and apologies stopped Ianto from putting them all on decaf for the next week.

…..

**_end._**

…..

_a/n Thanks to everyone who has favorited, reviewed, or put this crazy little fic on story alert. It actually just started out as a oneshot, then I kept writing, and the next thing I knew… I think this is the fastest I've ever finished a full story. Weird._

_Anyway, in case anyone is wondering about the music used throughout the course of this story, here's the list:_

**_The Little Things (Linkin Park)_**

**_Rabbit Heart (Florence + The Machine)_**

**_Heartbreak Warfare (John Mayer)_**

**_For Your Entertainment (Adam Lambert)_**

**_Impossible (Anberlin)_**

**_Walking on Broken Glass (Annie Lennox)_**

**_Talking to the Moon (Bruno Mars)_**

**_Because of You (Nickelback)_**

**_Closing Time (Semisonic)_**

**_and_**

**_Wish You Were Here (Pink Floyd)_**

_Again, thank you!_

_~t.h._

_…_

_a/n2 So, I do still have a list of a bunch of songs I think would work well for the Torchwood characters. Thus, fair warning, there may yet be a sequel to this. But it will depend entirely on the day of the week and what inspiration I have at any given moment. Because of this, go right ahead and keep sending me songs that you feel might work, and we'll see what happens._

_Anyway, alons-y!_


End file.
